Lost in the fire
by Dianaprince89
Summary: Jane turned to gaze unseeingly out the window, her shoulders hunched, her jaw clenched. Death would be better than this. Anything would be better than this.


She had lost something in that fire, but it wasn't her legs.

It was her life.

Well, her legs too.

Or at least, the use of them.

She hadn't died. But she had lost her _life_.

There was no denying that.

She hadn't spoken in four days.

Jane turned to gaze unseeingly out the window, her shoulders hunched, her jaw clenched.

Death would be better than this.

_Anything_ would be better than this.

She knew her mother was near by, probably no more than a matter of feet and inches. That friends and coworkers were cycling through the waiting room in shifts. Waiting to hear from her.

She refused to speak.

How could she?

This was…

It was too much.

And Maura, miles away at a conference. How would she tell her?

Jane knew Maura was probably already aware. That someone had probably called her best friend before she'd even woken up.

That the ringing of the phone she'd disconnected had probably been Maura.

But she had nothing to say.

And the sympathy, the misplaced compassion…

It was crippling.

_Crippling._

How fucking fitting.

Maura would be able to explain the details, the mechanics, but Jane didn't need that to understand the pity in the doctor's eyes.

The too-young physician had shifted nervously before meeting Jane's gaze head on.

_It's probably not permanent,_ she'd said.

Jane's mind had gone completely blank.

Her life was over.

No more _Detective Rizzoli_.

She'd be _just Jane_, from now on.

Crippled.

Since the news four days ago she hadn't spoken a single word. There was nothing to say.

Closing her eyes, she willed her legs to move. A single toe, even.

But no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she wanted it, nothing happened.

Not even a twitch.

And again furious, hot tears washed down her cheeks as she gritted her jaw and tried to make her legs work.

_Nothing._

So she let the tears fall and she wished for death.

Death would be better.

It was the way she had always imagined her career would end.

A haze of adrenaline and righteousness. Justice. She would pay the ultimate price so that others could live, thrive.

But this…

This living hell was something she'd never contemplated.

A nurse had told her, _you're lucky to be alive._

Jane hadn't responded.

But all she could think was, _I'm not so lucky. I wish I had died._

All day long she stared at the ceiling, letting the world spin on around her. Doctors, nurses, family members- they came and went.

But she barely noticed.

A fire. A kid in the wrong place at the wrong time. Instinct. Heat. Training. Smoke. Compassion.

And no more Jane Rizzoli.

Now, she was… a stranger.

She didn't know how to define herself without a badge.

Without boldness, basketball, or bravery.

How would she live now that she couldn't walk?

Her childhood nickname came rushing back.

_Roly-poly Rizzoli._

Well, she was certainly going to be rolling now.

And Maura…

Jane turned to the side and vomited into the trashcan next to her bed. She hadn't been eating and her retching dissolved quickly into dry heaving.

She cursed the weakness. Cursed everything.

A soft hand across her back sent a shudder through her body. She recoiled from the touch.

Looking up, she was shocked to meet Maura's dark, pained eyes.

But there she was, standing next to Jane's hospital bed.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get here," Maura said. The sorrow in her eyes made Jane's chest ache. "I came as soon as I heard."

Jane felt tears slipping from her open eyes but she couldn't seem to stem the flow. She leaned back against the pillows, closing her eyes. Maura's hand slipped from her body and Jane felt numb all over in the absence of that touch.

She didn't want Maura to see her like this. _Broken._ But she couldn't manage the strength to push her away.

"Your mother told me you aren't speaking," Maura whispered. "Why not?"

Jane pressed her lips together to stop them from trembling. If she spoke, it would be real. Everything would come tumbling out and she wouldn't be able to stop it.

"I'm sorry," Maura repeated. "As soon as I got word I came. I came straight from the airport. I just needed to see you."

Maura reached out, stroking a hand up Jane's forearm. Jane's clammy, grimy skin chafed under Maura's gentle touch and she closed her eyes again.

She could only imagine how hellish she looked. How horrible she must smell. How wounded and weak and broken she looked.

Maura looked radiant, as usual, even straight from the airport.

Jane turned abruptly, again retching into the trashcan next to her bed.

She would never get to love Maura now.

They had been on the brink of something when Maura left for her conference. Had shared a tentative, soft kiss before Maura departed for the airport. Had promised to broach the topic of their relationship upon her return.

Now…

That wouldn't happen.

She wouldn't get to feel Maura's lips against hers. Wouldn't get to map the plains and valleys of Maura's tantalizing figure, wouldn't get to skim the softness of her skin, wouldn't get to feel the heat of her frame…

None of it.

She would be cold and alone.

Forever.

Maura stroked the hair back from Jane's face, smoothed a hand across her back, whispered soft, nonsensical things in her ear as she dry heaved over the side of the bed.

Jane could hear the pain in Maura's voice when she spoke.

It hurt more than any of her injuries.

"I love you," Maura breathed. "I'm so glad you're alright. I was so worried about you. I'm sorry it took me so long to get here."

It snapped something in Jane.

"I can't walk," she rasped brokenly.

It was the first time she'd acknowledged it out loud.

Her throat hurt, more words welling up and sticking on her tongue, heavy and sour.

Maura nodded, her lips trembling.

"I know," she responded, tears pooling in her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

Maura collapsed against Jane. Jane wrapped her arms around Maura instinctively, startled when the other woman started crying.

She felt Maura's arms encircle her. Clutched desperately to the warm, firm body of her best friend as she cried.

And all she could think was, _I'll never have more than this now_.

She would never give Maura less than everything.

Jane held so tightly to Maura she could feel her struggle to breathe, but she couldn't seem to loosen her grip. She worried that if she let go Maura would float away.

She would be alone in the silence again.

"I can't walk," she repeated needlessly.

It felt real now, with Maura pressed against her. Maura's breathing was labored, her tears seemingly endless.

Jane hated herself.

"Not right now," Maura pulled back, finding Jane's eyes, hope and trust and love written so clearly in her gaze that it was almost painful to face.

Jane purposefully averted her gaze.

"But with physical therapy," Maura continued. "You'll walk again, soon."

Jane knew better.

She'd never be the same again.

"I'm tired," she lied. She knew Maura would be hurt by the incongruous words, take them as rejection and flee to lick her wounds. Part of knowing someone so well meant knowing exactly how to cut, how to push them away.

She wanted Maura to stay.

Had never wanted anything so badly in her whole life.

But she couldn't stand the hurt, haunted look in Maura's eyes. The way her friend, _almost more_, was so clearly determined to stick by her side without regard to the personal cost.

_You are my business._

"Please," Maura breathed.

Jane looked up, surprised.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get here," Maura elaborated. "But please don't be angry with me. I was so worried-"

Her voice wavered, tears falling as she choked on a sob.

"I just want to be here with you," Maura cried. "I'm so glad you're ok."

"I'm not ok," Jane bit, the ferocity in her voice startling them both. Her volume didn't rise, the pained whisper more profound in the otherwise silent room than any amount of yelling. "I'm not ok! I'm crippled, Maura! How the fuck am I supposed to live this way? Huh? What will I do now? I'm sorry it took you so long to get here too but you know what? It doesn't matter. I was crippled yesterday and I'll be crippled tomorrow. I'm not ok."

"Jane," Maura's surprise was evident. "Stop."

Her eyes pleaded.

Jane felt like a bird with clipped wings.

She needed to flee, but she was permanently tied to the ground now.

She was meant to fly.

"Please let me stay," Maura begged softly. "I miss you, Jane."

It had been seven long days since they'd seen each other. Two days where the hope was heavy enough to be a physical thing. A day of complete blackness, nothingness, where she floated outside herself. And four days of silence.

With the sour taste of vomit in her mouth, the numbing pain of losing something she'd never had, Jane had never felt so despondent.

And Maura… that dark, haunted sheen to her eyes, the trembling of her lower lip…

Jane wanted to wrap Maura in her arms and take her away, somewhere safe and warm and full of love. To protect her from the world, from Jane herself.

But she couldn't protect Maura from anything now.

She couldn't even dress herself. She could barely function, let alone give Maura the life she deserved.

"I love you," Maura added.

That was enough to break Jane.

She nodded almost imperceptibly.

But Maura knew.

She always did.

She stood, crawling delicately into the too small hospital bed with Jane. She tucked herself against Jane's frame, burrowing into Jane's grasp.

Jane curled her arms around Maura's body, holding her tight. Maura's face found home against Jane's neck, her breath falling softly at Jane's throat.

"I love you too," Jane breathed when Maura was settled.

Maura sobbed, took a shuddering breath, and proceeded to cry silently against Jane for long minutes.

Jane froze when she felt Maura's lips against her pulse point.

"Don't," she gritted.

Maura paused momentarily, then placed a string of kisses against the tender skin of Jane's neck.

"I can't help it," she admitted, her voice low and heated. _Desperate._ "I thought I lost you."

Jane wanted to correct her. To say,

_You did_.

But she couldn't bring herself to break Maura like that.

Not now.

Not yet.

She would have to soon though.

And Jane suddenly understood what Maura's autopsy victims felt like. Knew what it was like to have Maura strip you bare, cut you open from breastbone to navel, precisely remove your heart and keep it for herself.

It _hurt._

Maybe she would walk again. Maybe someday she'd run.

But she'd never have Maura.

She couldn't, _wouldn't_, put Maura through the hell of loving someone whose life involved such risk, such danger.

She didn't want Maura to lie awake at night, wondering if Jane was ok. Didn't want Maura to worry herself into an early grave over Jane's job. Didn't want the other woman to waste countless hours in the hospital at Jane's bedside.

Maura deserved more.

Maybe she would walk again, but she'd never have Maura.

She had lost something in that fire, but it wasn't her legs.

It was her life.


End file.
